HIS BEAUTIFUL, perfect, angel's face was glowing, as if a white flame burnt from behind his skin, his smile widened, showing all of his beautiful, but very sharp white teeth. "Thank you, Love. Now, let's put your ring on so I can see if it needs to be resized." Edward's cool, long fingers, took out the ring from where it was nestled in satin, carefully, slowly, lovingly, slid it into the ring finger of her left hand. "A perfect fit," he mused. "That's nice, it saves me a trip to the Jewelers." His voice was casual, too casual—didn't match the emotion burning behind his eyes, which had increased in intensity.
She narrowed her eyes, held her hand in front of the two of them, wiggled her fingers, the diamonds of her engagement ring—a ring, that, like her bracelet, had once belonged to his mother, sparkling under the moonlight. "You like this, don't you?"
A light shrug, again, too casual for the emotion burning behind his eyes. "Sure, it looks very nice on you." Then all of his pretense, his casual demeanor, fell away. Gently, he pushed her back so she was laying on the blanket, rolling so he was on top of her, carefully holding his weight above her. When his lips found her own, his kiss, hard, but soft, deep, loving, and triumphant, took her breath away. "Yes, I like it, I like it a lot, it means you're mine."
She laughed breathlessly, her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him to her, taking advantage of every ounce of his lapse of self-control. "As if there ever was any question of that."
"Hmm." His lips—cold as ice, moved from her lips, to her jaw, to her cheek, to her neck, to the hollow at the base of her throat, then back up to her lips, pressing small, soft, honey-sweet kisses. "But it's nice to have a physical symbol to represent that, the fact that you belong to me and no one else, just as I belong to you."
Bella felt giddy, overwhelmed with happiness and love, on the moon, his continuous kisses, soft, cold, sweet as honey, and ecstatic, making her brain semi incoherent. She was getting what she wanted, to be Edwards in every way forever, and he was going to make love to her, then turn her into a vampire. "Yes, it is nice." A pause, Bella trying to gather her thoughts, something which was very hard, what with the way Edward continued to kiss her, alternating between her lips and her neck and throat when she needed to breathe. "What about our wedding bands? Are we going to use your parents' wedding bands, too, or are you going to get new ones?"
He shifted, pulled Bella astride him so it was she who was on top, cupped her face with both hands, cold, gentle fingers spread over her cheeks, angling her head so he could place a kiss on her throat, right over her quickened pulse, making her eyes roll to the back of her head. "My parents' wedding bands," another two kisses pressed to her throat, "they are a little outdated— old-fashioned, like me, but I know you like old-fashioned things, after all, if you didn't, you wouldn't be engaged to me right now. Still, perhaps I should get us new wedding bands, something to represent a new, fresh start in our lives."
Bella stiffened a little. She didn't like the thought of Edward spending a lot of money, not when it was unnecessary. It was irrational, she knew, especially when he'd had a long time, decades upon decades, to increase his savings, but that's how she felt. "Edward—"
He touched one cool finger to her lips, then angled her head so he could kiss her again, soft, deep, and sweet, making all of her thoughts fly out the window. "No, Bella, Love, this, our wedding bands, it's something important, will be yet another symbol of our love, thus I'm not willing to put a limit on what I will spend on them, but neither am I going to go overboard, like Alice no doubt would. Trust me, my beautiful bride-to-be , I'll get us the perfect wedding bands."
She pushed lightly at his chest, indicating she wanted him to stop kissing her so she could think. He did, sat up, brought her onto his lap, shifting her body so she sat sideways, her left arm over his shoulders and around his neck. She didn't say anything for several minutes, running her hand over his hair, thinking of the best way to handle this situation. Finally, her mind came to a quiet resolve. "You're not going to budge on this, are you?"
A shake of his head, his lips curved into a half smile.
"Fine, then, just don't get anything too expensive." She looked up at the sky, saw thick gray clouds had rolled overhead, covering the light of the moon. Bella let out a long, deep breath, because this—it meant she and Edward had to put their perfect bliss momentarily on pause, had to leave soon, go back to school so he can drop her off at her house, then kidnap her. She unwound her arm from round his neck, lifted her hand to her eyes so she could examine her ring closer, a small, contented smile playing on her lips. She didn't want to take it off—even if it was just temporary, only for a couple of minutes, but if Charlie saw it . . .still, he was usually unobservant, and Bella couldn't imagine why he would start being observant now.
Edward took her hand, linked his fingers with hers, brought it to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her wrist. "What are you thinking about? You've been quiet for some time, and, as always, your quiet mind is driving me crazy."
She turned in his lap so she was completely facing him, wrapped her arms around his neck, interlacing her fingers at the back. "Oh, it's nothing, really, just that we probably should leave soon, and I really don't want to take my ring off."
"Ah, yes, Charlie." He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes, his lips a hair's breath away from hers, his cool, sweet, intoxicating breath, washing over her skin, her lips, as he spoke. "Don't worry, my beautiful bride-to-be, I'll drive slower than I usually do so we can take as long as possible to get to your house, then, when we do get there, and you have to take your ring off, it will only be for a couple of minutes, I promise. I'll drop my car off at my house fast as I can, then come back, whisk you away to my house where we don't have to pretend and you can wear your ring." Soft, quiet, musical, male laughter. "We'll speak to Alice in the morning, when she returns along with the rest of my family, see what the best course of action is for telling Charlie about our engagement."
Husky female laughter. "Yes, it's a good thing we have Alice, who can see the outcome of our decisions, give us a heads up, on our side." She changed the subject, but Edward, who had a vampire mind, had no trouble keeping up with her. "What's," she gestured toward the picnic basket with her chin, "in there? It's not food, is it? If it is, then it will probably go bad if I don't eat it soon."
Edwards hands came up to her shoulders, his long, strong, cold fingers kneading her stiff muscles. "No, Bella, it's not food, just some stuff I brought so we could start planning our wedding." His eyes glowed, became bright with excitement, elation, and love. "I didn't realize we would get carried away, spend the majority of our time here kissing."
She buried her face against his shoulder, where it met with his neck, hiding her heated skin, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating perfume of his own, taking her fill of him. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not."
He stroked a hand over her hair, soft and gentle. "And I should be sorry that you're not sorry, but I'm not." He shifted, getting up, holding her firmly in his arms, keeping her cradled close to his chest, not afraid to do so because her dress was doing a great job of keeping her warm despite the cold temperature of his skin. "Time to go back to school, I think." He bent his head, kissed her once, soft and light. "I'll come back later, pick up the basket before I pick you up, bring you to my house."
"Sounds perfect," she told him, and, because she could never . . . would never get enough of him, she kissed him, her lips molding themselves around his. Then he was running, but she didn't notice it much, the knowledge only a faint hum in the back of her mind, their lips continuing their slow, familiar dance.
He pulled away suddenly, though he kept his forehead pressed against hers. She was about to ask why, when she looked around, realized they were already back at the school. He strode over to his car, set her down on the hood, then, from only he knew where, produced a shoe, which, thank God, didn't have a high heel, slipped it onto her foot. "There, that's better." He helped her down, his arms sliding around her waist, walked her to the passenger side of his car, opened the door, and helped her in. "I don't want you falling over your own two feet when I'm not there to catch you."
Shutting the door, he walked, like a human, to the driver's seat. This, watching him move like a human, it felt strange, especially when she was used to him not having to pretend anything around her. Still, it only took about a minute for him to be by her side, her left hand in his, his other hand on the steering wheel, unparking the car. Because Edward wasn't human, didn't need his full attention on the road, had a built-in radar detector, what with him being able to read minds, save, of course, for her own, she did something she would have never otherwise done. She scooted herself as close to him as her seatbelt would allow, leaned her head against his shoulder, let her eyes close. "Just hold me like this for as long as it takes to get to my house."
"As you wish."
He did drive slower than his usual speed, just like he'd promised, almost, almost sticking to the speed limit, but not quite. When he turned into her neighborhood, she tensed a little, she didn't want to leave him, not just yet, even if it would only be for a couple of minutes, half an hour at most. He must have been thinking the same thing, because rather than turning to her familiar street, he continued going straight, found a private alcove swathed in darkness, two huge trees, whose species she didn't know the name of, blocking it from public view, the evergreen thick. Without a word, he reached over, took off her seat belt, brought her onto his lap, buried his face in her hair. She wrapped her arms around his neck, happy at all of his lapses of self-control, though she wondered how long they would last, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. "I love you."
She could hear a smile in his voice, feel it against her skin. "As I love you." He began to hum her lullaby, only it was different somehow, happier.
"I really don't want to move. I'm too comfortable here in your arms."
Edward let out a long sigh. "As am I, my beautiful bride-to-be, but the sooner you go inside and Charlie sees you, the sooner we can get you home, to my house." He cupped her face, cold, gentle fingers stroking her cheeks, kissed her. This kiss—it was a whisper, just the barest brush of lips against lips. "Just hang on a minute, I'll get you to your door, get the extra pair of crutches Alice put in my car this morning, then you'll give me your ring before you go inside."
He didn't bother placing her back on her seat, simply turned her so her back was pressed against his chest, then started the car, began to drive again. She should have been bothered by his blatant disregard for traffic laws, she was the daughter of the chief of police, after all, but right now she couldn't care less, she was so happy. He parked the car in her driveway, gently slit her off of his lap, to the passenger seat, went to the trunk of the car, took out the crutches, was back in less than a second, the door held wide open to help her out.
Slowly, gently, he helped her stand, and when he was sure she wouldn't fall, he took her left hand in his, took off her ring, placing it back in its box, then placed the box in the pocket of his suit jacket. "I'll take this for now, will give it back to you when we're alone again." He folded her into his embrace, kissed her goodbye, somehow not letting the crutches drop. "I'll see you soon, my beautiful bride-to-be."
Edward walked back to his car, got in, though she knew he wouldn't leave until she went inside. She took a deep, calming breath in preparation for dealing with whatever Charlie had to say, opened the door of her house, walked in.
"Bella?" Charlie's voice came from the living room, over the sound of the TV.
"Yeah, Dad, it's me!"
Shuffling sounds, a click, the TV being turned off, then footsteps, Charlie walking toward her. When he saw her, he stopped in his tracks, his mouth dropping open, a blush coloring his cheeks. "You look beautiful, Bella, Alice did an amazing job with your hair, makeup, and dress. She must really know a lot about beauty, huh?"
"Yeah, Dad, Alice loves all things beauty." That, combined with the fact that who knew how many times she had gone to college for something beauty or fashion related, made for a lethal combination. And, additionally, of course, Alice's vampire mind could absorb new information faster than any human mind could.
Charlie shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot, scratched the back of his head nervously. She felt awkward, but, rather than saying something, Bella waited for the moment to pass, or for Charlie to say something. After what seemed like an eternity, her strategy paid off, because Charlie spoke again. "Speaking of Alice, she called earlier, said she didn't get a chance to talk to you before you left prom because Edward took you out early, what with you not enjoying parties or dancing, wanted to ask you if you wanted to have a sleepover this weekend, just to wait for her outside when you were done changing if the answer was yes."
Oh, thank God she had a future sister-in-law who could see the future. She'd provided her with the perfect excuse. Now Bella wouldn't have to wake up early, come back before Charlie noticed she was gone, could actually spend the whole weekend with Edward at his house. "A sleepover sounds nice," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. Thankfully, Charlie was as unobservant as ever tonight, didn't notice the blush slowly creeping across her cheeks. It was a very good thing, proved Edward right at the same time. He was always telling her she was a really bad actress, that her facial expressions gave her away, but that didn't matter, not when it came to Charlie. "I'll go take a quick shower, change and pack for the weekend." She started to head towards the stairs, then paused. "Do you want me to make you dinner before I go?"
He shook his head. "No, thank you, Bella, I already ate, made myself a sandwich when I got home from fishing."
"Okay, then, Dad, I'm going to go shower, change, and pack."
Charlie nodded, and with that, she headed to the bathroom. She tried to drag out the process of getting ready for as long as possible. Surprisingly, she didn't have to try that hard, because, since she didn't often wear makeup, especially not the expensive kind Alice had no doubt used on her, she had a really hard time getting it off, spend at least twenty minutes in front of the mirror rubbing at her face, trying to get it off. After that, though, things went by quite fast, and she was saying goodbye to Charlie, wishing him good night forty–five minutes after Edward first dropped her off at the door.
When that was done, she put on a thick turtleneck brown sweater made entirely of yarn, slid the huge blue and gray backpack she'd put all of her clothes in on, open the door, Edward automatically coming out of the shadows, his hiding spot, where he'd been waiting for her. Not saying anything for fear of being overheard by Charlie, she simply walked over to him, let him take her back back, bring it over his shoulders, then take her into his arms. He ran, quiet and fast, and after just a couple of seconds, when she was sure they were far enough away that Charlie wouldn't hear them, she finally allowed herself to say what she'd wanted to tell him since she saw him. "I'm not just staying at your house tonight, am I?
A shake of his head, his smile brilliant. "No. I wanted to kidnap you for the whole weekend, told Alice, and she helped me said everything up. Of course, she'll have to be the one to drop you off Sunday night, as, technically, you're supposed to be having a sleepover with her, but I'll be right behind you, take you into my arms soon as you walk into your room, hold you while you sleep."
She pressed herself closer to him, curved her body around the stone shape of him, snuggled her face against his chest. "Himm, that's a very good thing." Her fingers came up to play with the heavy, rich silk of his hair, stroke his face, using her tactile sense, dull compared to his, to explore his features, the smooth, yet hard, velvet texture of his skin. "Did you talk to her about what we discussed yesterday," she let her forefinger trace the smooth, beautiful curve of his lips, "not letting Emmett pull anything the night before our wedding?"
A shake of his head, his lips puckering so he could press a kiss to her fingertip. "No, I figured we could do so together tomorrow morning when she comes back." He laughed, then, quiet, soft, and musical. "Of course, Emmett has no right to tell me what I should or shouldn't do the night before our wedding, his courtship and relationship with Rosalie is very different than ours, can't be compared. Plus, Carlisle, Esme, and Alice know how anxious I get when I'm away from you, and Jasper, he doesn't like the emotions, the anxiety bleeding from me when we're apart."
He slowed down, his run turning into a light walk, bounded lightly up the steps to his house, shifted her weight so he held her with naught but one arm, opened the door, stepped inside. The house was warm, more than warm, actually, hot, a little too hot to be comfortable. Her thick brown turtle neck sweater wasn't helping matters, was actually making things worse. Gently, he set her down, his hands taking hers, sliding slowly up her arms, to her shoulders, cupped her face, fingers spread over her skin. He didn't move or say anything for several moments, and, when he did move, it was slow, deliberate, his lips moving closer and closer to hers, until, finally, gently, he kissed her, soft and honey-sweet, his tongue, cold as ice, tracing the full curve of her lower lip. "Welcome home."
He pulled away slightly, though he still held her close to his body, pressed flesh against him, keeping one arm around her waist, took out the box containing her ring from the pocket of his suit jacket. He let her go, then, though it was only momentary, so he could open the box, Slide the ring into the ring finger of her left hand, then press a kiss to each of her fingers and finally the ring. "There, that's better"
"Yes, much better." She wrapped her arms around his neck, stretched up on tiptoe, kissed him, soft and deep, deep as he would allow her to, her tongue taking in the taste of his skin. His arms came around her, encircled her, half lifted her off the floor so he didn't have to bend. After a moment, Bella laughed quietly against his lips, pulled away slightly, but he didn't release her, not until she explained, "I need to take off my sweater, the house is so hot."
He set her down, let her pull her sweater over her head, revealing the thin, deep blue blouse she wore underneath. The color was similar to that of her first dress, perhaps only slightly lighter. The collar of her blouse was a slight vee, leaving her collarbones exposed, emphasizing the column of her throat. He reached out, gently traced the shape of her collarbones with one cool finger, then moved on to her throat, following the blue map of her veins. His touch, soft as a feather, left a trail of fire and it's wake regardless of the temperature of his skin. She closed her eyes, eyelashes casting half-moon shadows over her cheeks, leaned into the touch, his voice a faint whisper, something she could barely hear through the buzz of pleasure in her head. "I like this, Love, I like it a lot. You are so beautiful, my Bella, my bride-to-be, I can't wait to make you my wife."
She blushed, heat coloring her cheeks, her whole face lighting up with a smile, her heart expanding with love. "I can't wait to marry you, either, want to do it as soon as possible, regardless of what people think. Why is the house so hot? Did you buy a heater or something?" Though Bella had taken off her sweater, she was still much too hot, and, last time she'd come here, the house had had a normal temperature, not this boiling Heat that made it seem like they were standing in the middle of the beach with the sun at its worst.
His eyes got a familiar, excited look, his lips curving into a soft smile. "Since we have the whole house to ourselves tonight, with no one to hear us or interrupt us, I figured we could do a little more wedding night practice. I know how much you hate that I keep a blanket around you, layers of clothing between us when we kiss, though you understand I do it to keep you warm. I thought if I made the house hot as possible, my skin would be soothing rather than cold, thus we would have no need for wrapping you up in blankets. This doesn't mean I'm willing to go all the way, not yet, not until after you officially become my wife, but this will make it a little bit more real."
"Oh, Edward, thank you." Before he could say anything, she launched herself at him, kissed him, her lips, hot and feverish, against his, moving urgently.
Soft, musical, male laughter. Gently, he pulled her away from him, effortlessly disentangling himself from her, though she clung to him with all of her strength, cradled her face in his hands, kept his forehead pressed against hers. "Eat dinner first, Bella, let's take care of your human needs, we can have wedding night practice for hours on end afterwards."
"Human needs shmeeds," she muttered indifferently, kissing his neck, along the smooth column of his throat, to his jaw, to his lips. She pulled away reluctantly. 'Fine. I'm assuming you'll go put my stuff in your room, be right behind me."
A nod, a quick kiss pressed to the top of her head, then he was gone.
She was halfway to the kitchen when he joined her again, her left hand in his, strange, considering how fast he was, but she didn't question him. She was expecting to have to cook, was planning on making a quick stir fry, but, when they walked into the kitchen, she was pleasantly surprised to find two plates on the counter, one containing a simple, but elegant salad, the other what seemed to be grilled chicken complete with char marks. She spun on her heel, turned to face Edward, her fiance, who had a very anxious look on his face, but his eyes . . . they were filled to the brim with love and something else, an emotion which had no name, it was so deep, so pure. "From what I gathered yesterday by looking at your fridge, pantry, and freezer, along with everything you've told me, you like to cook, would rather have a home cooked meal than go to a fancy, expensive restaurant. Do you like this, though, or would you rather have something else? I can—"
She threw her arms around his neck, kissed him, cutting him off mid sentence. "Oh, Edward, no, this is fine—perfect, actually, thank you. All of this—learning how to cook, getting a heater so the house could be extra hot, was it what you were doing when you left me yesterday, along with most of the day today?"
A nod, then a slight shrug, quiet excitement in his eyes. "Among other things." He tugged at her hand, leading her to the counter, placed the chicken in the microwave. "Eat, my Bella, satisfy your human needs, then we can indulge in wedding night practice."
It was heavenly, the food, perfectly seasoned, spices and herbs balanced just right, melted in her mouth, despite him not being able to taste it. She wondered how he'd done it, guessed that though his sense of taste was rendered obsolete, he used the rest of his senses, sight and smell in particular, to make sure the food was perfect. She suppose that he must look like a lunatic to his siblings, running around, doing things a vampire had no need to do, learning how to cook, getting a heater, not to mention worrying about her. The only one who could, perhaps, understand him was Carlisle, for though he, too, like the rest of them, craved blood, he chose to put himself in temptation's way, become a doctor, help people. Even Carlisle, though, he couldn't compare to Edward, her fiance, not really, because, Bella knew, her blood was a thousand times more appealing, called to Edward more than any other human's blood ever had, yet even when he'd been forced to drink it, suck James's venom out from her system, he'd found the strength to stop, for he loved her, and his love, it was way, way stronger than his thirst for her blood.
She ate the last piece of the chicken, set the fork down, didn't realize she'd been crying until she felt Edward's cool, gentle fingers on her cheeks, wiping her tears away. "Bella, Bella, Love, what's wrong?" Edward's voice was gentle, though he was clearly alarmed and concerned.
Before she could answer him, he swept her up into his arms, like how a groom carried his new bride, cradled her close to his chest. She buried her face against his neck, kissed the hard, smooth skin of his throat. "I love you so much." It was a whisper, would have been inaudible to human ears, but Edward, her fiance, he wasn't human.
Shifting her weight so he held her with naught but one arm, he placed two cool fingers under her chin, tilted her head up to look at him. "As I love you." He kissed her, soft and honey-sweet, his tongue, cold as ice, lightly, gently, darting out to taste the curve of her lower lip. "I'll let nothing and no one tear you from me, I swear." A sudden, brilliant smile. "Have you finished with dinner, shall we move on to the next part of the night, some wedding night practice, or did you want to eat something else?"
She shivered, and it was a shiver of pleasure, anticipation, butterflies forming in her stomach, her heart filling with love. Thankfully, because the house was boiling hot, Edward didn't mistake her body's involuntary reaction as one from cold. "No, we can move on, do some wedding night practice." Again, her voice was naught but a whisper, blood coloring not just her cheeks, but her entire body, from her head to her toes.
A smile, another kiss, then he moved fast like only he could, was in his room in less than a second.
And his room . . it had changed. His black leather couch was pushed up against the wall, his stereo pushed against the shelves of CDs, and in the center of the room, taking priority, was a massive bed. It matched the color scheme of his room perfectly. The coverlet of the bed was a dull gold slightly lighter than the walls, its frame a deep ebony made of intricately carved wrought iron. Sculpted metal roses wound in vines over the tall posts,and formed a bowery lattice overhead. Lit all around the room were thousands of candles, their dancing flames reflected in the glass wall, and scattered around the gold coverlet of the bed were white rose petals, their sweet fragrance potent even to Bella's senses. She turned to Edward, found he was already looking at her, a happy, loving, but anxious look on his beautiful, angel's face. She cupped that face, kissed him, soft and sweet, kept her forehead pressed against his, her eyes closed. "Oh, Edward, this is wonderful, though you didn't need to get a bed this fancy and elaborate, I'd be happy laying in a simple, wooden cot, just as long as I was in your arms."
Soft, quiet, musical, male laughter. "Ah, my Bella, but I want you to be as comfortable as possible. Besides, there's a reason why I got a bed with a wrought iron frame. If my emotions get the better of me while we're kissing, and I want to crush you to me, momentarily forget myself, I want to have something to claw at to channel the love, the extra passion I feel for you." He cradled her closer to him, his voice becoming strained. "I'd never forgive myself if I hurt you, even if it was by accident."
She pulled away slightly, looked deep into his eyes, pressed a palm to his cheek. "Edward, you could never hurt me." He narrowed his eyes, shifted her weight so he held her with naught but one arm, reached for one of the metal roses. She placed a hand over his, stopping him. "You don't need to tear the furniture apart. I don't mean that you don't have the physical capability of hurting me if you wanted to, more that I don't think you ever could because of your love for me. That love," she let go of his hand, pressed her own to his cheek again, "it's way, way stronger than your thirst for my blood, though it's a thousand times more appealing to you than any other human's blood has ever been. Think about it, my beautiful, overprotective fiance, even when you were forced to drink it to suck James's venom out, you found the strength to stop, all because of your love for me. Our love, pure and inhuman, is stronger than any of your vampiric desires or tendencies"
He laughed, a low, choked, throaty sound. "Your confidence in me is astonishing, truly, Love." He kissed her, quick and soft, just the barest brush of lips against lips. "Still, I will take every precaution that I can. It's why I went hunting yesterday when I left you, why we're going to practice for our wedding night now."
He set her down gently, placed her on the bed, her hair, a dark brown, fanning out across the pillows, some of the rose petals getting caught in it. He darted to his shelves, grabbed some sort of fancy, electronic remote, pressed a couple of buttons in quick succession, and the room was suddenly much, much hotter. Not saying a word, and with a small smile playing about the full curve of his mouth, he walked, slowly this time, like a human, to the foot of the bed, shrugged off his suit jacket, let It drop soundlessly to the floor, his strong, nimble, pianist fingers, undoing the buttons of his shirt slowly, one by one, before he shrugged it off, let it fall to the floor, too, join his suit jacket in a heap on the floor.
Slowly, deliberately, he crawled on the bed, his beautiful, perfect body, coming over hers, pressing her down on the mattress ever-so-gently. The temperature of his skin, cold as ice, was the perfect antidote to the burning, scorching heat in the room, normalized her body temperature. He braced his hands on either side of her head, cupped her face, fingers stroking over her cheek, before he shifted his hand round to the back of her neck, glided it down her spine in a long, slow, gentle stroke, pressing her even closer to him, his head bending down, their lips meeting in the softest, most delicate of brushes. "My Bella, my beautiful bride-to-be, my future wife, I love you so much."
She moaned, arched her neck, exposing the column of her throat, her jugular, something which would have been dangerous with any other vampire, but not with Edward—arced her body up toward him. Soft, husky laughter. He shifted his head, kissed the skin she'd exposed to him, his kisses feather soft, cold as ice. She stroked her hands over his shoulders, down his back, clawing at his cold, hard, smooth skin—very faintly, through the buzz of pleasure in her head, heard what sounded like ripping and tearing sounds. He hid his face in her hair, against the junction of her neck, stopped kissing her, swallowed audibly, reflexively. She stroked her fingers, slowly this time, soft as a feather, up and down his back, trying to soothe him, gentle him. "It's okay, Edward, my beautiful fiance, you didn't hurt me, I'm okay. Kiss me."
He pulled away from her skin, shifted up so he could look into her deep, chocolate brown eyes, stroked her cheeks, her lips, only the tips of his fingers touching the skin of her face. "Oh, my Bella, Love, my beautiful bride-to-be, my future wife." His voice was choked with emotion, with love. And then his lips met hers again, and he surrendered to her, their passion, with a loud groan, always so careful not to hold her too close, crush her too tight, though she could tell he ached to do just that, his body straining to hold back his emotions, the strength with which he loved her, for if he unleashed it right now, he'd break her like a twig, never forgive himself for it. She hated that—the fact that he couldn't show her how much he loved her, unleash his passion, not fully, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that it wouldn't be thus for too much longer.
They spent hours and hours like that, kissing and stroking each other, speaking words of love, his hands—strong, but gentle, exploring the curves of her body in a very polite, gentlemanly fashion through her clothes, his lips scattering cold, soft, sweet kisses over the exposed parts of her skin, her body, and when they did have to stop because of her human needs, she needed to go to the bathroom at some point, after all, sleep, he waited for her, his arms held wide open when she came back, and she went, more than willingly, into his embrace, laid her head against the cold skin of his chest. He sung her to sleep that night, hummed her lullaby, his arms gently, but securely, around her, his lips pressed to the crown of her head.
She was very still when she woke up in the morning, could feel Edward's hands slowly, soothingly, running up and down the bare skin of her arms. She knew he heard a change in her heartbeat, heard it quicken, because he shifted, pressed a soft, honey-sweet kiss to her lips. "Are you awake, Bella?" Edward's voice was soft, filled with love, content, even, not what she expected.
"Hmm." She turned her head, pressed a kiss to his chest, right over the still organ that was his heart, shifted up on her elbows to look at him. He was glowing, a huge smile on his beautiful face, golden eyes alight. "You're awfully happy this morning," she commented, running her forefinger over the curve of his full lips.
He kissed her, soft as a whisper, just the barest brush of his lips against hers. "Why wouldn't I be? I have my beautiful bride-to-be in my arms, and my plan worked, I didn't hurt you last night, though I was so afraid I would, and you weren't cold despite the temperature of my skin. I'm way, way stronger than I thought, it's nice to know. He laughed, then, loud and cathartic and joyous, filled with love. "Of course, my tendency to tear and gouge the furniture apart while we are being intimate does mean I'll have to make slight changes to my plans for our honeymoon." A light shrug, the light behind his eyes increasing. "Oh, well, it's a good thing I still have plenty of time for that."
Before Bella could ask him what he meant by "my tendency to tear and gouge the furniture apart while we're being intimate" his phone began to ring, and he moved, one of those fast, easy, fluid movements, had the phone to his ear in less than a second, was back in the bed, his free arm around her, stroking over her hair. "Hello, Alice." A pause, Alice speaking on the other side of the line. A little vee marred his forehead while he listened to whatever she had to say, his facial expression, however, soon began to change, his lips slowly stretching into a huge smile. "Great, thanks for letting me know, we'll see you when you get here." He hung up the phone, threw it across the room with uncanny accuracy so it landed lightly on his black leather couch, turned to Bella, kissed her, soft and deep, deep as he was willing to without fear of hurting her. "There has been a slight change a plans," he stroked her cheek, kissed her again, left his forehead pressed against hers, his lips a hair's breath away from hers, "my family won't be back until later tonight, we have more time alone, with the entire house to ourselves."